


Nameday Cake

by ramsaycutofftheonspeen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 10:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramsaycutofftheonspeen/pseuds/ramsaycutofftheonspeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only a short fic for House Bolton fans - story of a happy family. Fluff and ribbons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nameday Cake

This hadn’t been a successful hunt. One of his bitches had hurt his leg and she had been howling with pain all the way back to Dreadfort. The human bitch, the one he had been hunting, didn’t please him either. When he had caught her, she lay on her back and closed her eyes whilst quietly sobbing. Ramsay had been so disappointed with her lack o fighting, he killed her right on the spot with a single swing of his dagger.   
As he returned to the castle, his mood couldn’t be any worse. His dark eyes were flashing angrily and his cruel lips were twisted in a frown which everyone knew was better to avoid.   
He got off his horse and handed him to Daemon, while he was looking around, searching his Reek with yearning look in his eyes. But his pet was nowhere to be seen. Ramsay remembered leaving him in the stables and he felt strong repulsion that his Reek had dared to disobey his order – an order which had not been said aloud, but should had been clear enough. Despite his anger, he had to admit a certain joy of another possibility to punish the human worm.   
But Reek could wait. First he had to find his father to inform him that he took good care of the stealing maid, which his father’s wife had discovered in her bedchambers. The Frey woman said that the girl was trying on one of her earrings. His father didn’t want to deal with such a petty nonsense, but during the dinner he had suggested that the servant wouldn’t be needed anymore. Ramsay was certain that his father would be happy with his initiative which he had shown with killing the stealing whore.   
He climbed up the stairs to his father’s chambers, panting heavily as his heart pounded fast from the tiring activity. He wasn’t a skinny man – he always had plenty of flesh on his bones but he had never complained – he didn’t ask if the ladies thought him pretty. Besides, his Reek loved his chubby cheeks and Reek was the only one he needed.   
The corridor was dark so he almost gasped with surprised as he had heard the steps of another person coming toward him. They were short, quick steps, full of excitement and energy. He knew it wasn’t his father and when he started to recognize the familiar face in the light of candles, he couldn’t help but sigh with frustration. Everytime he met his new step mother, she was trying to get near him, talk to him and touch his hair which she called ‚charming‘. Ramsay knew that his father enjoyed his fat Frey woman, but that had nothing to do with him. He already had a mother.   
„Ramsay Bolton, is that you, deary?“ she asked in a high, squeaky voice. He eyed her short, fat body and shook his head, wondering how his father could ever fall for someone like her.   
„Yes, Walda, who else would it be,“ he sighed loudly and looked away when he noticed her chastising but somewhat loving look.   
„Where have you been all day? You’d almost miss the dinner,“ she cocked her head in disapproval.   
„Not hungry, still have some work,“ he snapped. He couldn’t help but think that she was the only person who asked him such questions in a long time – his father only chastised him for everything he had done, showing him how disappointed he was, and the others simply didn’t care. First he found Walda’s care annoying, but at least she noticed him.  
„Work, work, work. That’s what you Boltons always say. Now, let’s eat some turkey and you’ll see how the whole world starts smiling at you!“  
„No, I can’t. Where’s father? I need to talk to him,“ he said with frustration.  
„Your father is waiting for you with the dinner. Now come on, come on!“ And then Walda did something that Ramsay would never expect. Her reaction surprised him so much he had to quietly gasp.  
Fat Walda grasped his hand and dragged him near to her, poking him into his back so he would go to the dining room. He wanted her to stop, but he wasn’t able to make a sound.  
The room was illuminated with the warm light of candles. In the middle was a big table, all covered with the most delicious kinds of food. His father sat all behind it, looking slightly annoyed as he was staring emptily into his wine cup. Walda had the place all covered with big pink flowers and the gloomy, dark chairs were decorated with pink ribbons made of a silky fabric. In the corner of the room, near the fireplace, was sitting a harpist, who played a quiet but cheery song which he had never heard before.   
His father looked up at him as Walda pushed Ramsay closer to the table. He was looking puzzled and slightly annoyed, uncertain what was this all about.   
Walda Frey stood behind him and pointed at the table with her chubby finger, giggling merrily. On the table was the biggest cake he had ever seen, all covered in pink icing. At the top of the cake, there was a title made from red marchpane saying HAPPY NAMEDAY RAMSAY.


End file.
